Roman, the youngest of the three
Moran brothers, is the only one who has ever believed in true love. Too bad his
one special person barely acknowledges his existence.

Sabrina Morris spends her days
running the HR Department of The Moran Group, and her nights corralling her
teenage daughter. She doesn’t have time for love. She’s heard the stories, but
Roman is not at all what she expects him to be. His gentle nature catches her
completely off-guard. She doesn’t expect to be attracted to him, and she
certainly doesn’t expect him to be equally drawn to her. But can she see past his
Romeo façade and allow the warm, loving man into her life?

I
earned the moniker when I was a young little shit, maybe twelve. My friends and
I were at the beach, like we were most every day during the summer, taking full
advantage of the fact that we live near the water in Miami. We were cussing,
simply because we thought it sounded cool (it didn’t), strutting around with
fake bravado trying to impress all the girls we’ve known since kindergarten. My
friend Raul dared me to talk to Missy Evers, the new girl who recently moved
here from Idaho. An hour after that first chat with cutie-pie Missy, who by the
way still rocks a bikini like nobody’s business, she was holding my hand. Two
hours later my tongue was working hard to get into her mouth and I got my first
feel of a female breast, even if it belonged to a relatively flat-chested
twelve-year-old girl. That little make-out session happened strategically
within eyesight of my group of boisterous friends, because at that age only two
things matter: getting some action and making sure your friends know about it.
And that’s all it took for the nickname to stick. Now, at the ripe old age of
twenty-nine, it’s something I despise.

I
was a halfway decent guy even back then, so most of my time with Missy was
G-rated. When she finally took off with her giggling friends in tow, she was
starry eyed, hanging on my every word. My dumb buddies, who knew nothing about
who or what the Shakespearian Romeo was really like, pranced around like a
bunch of idiots, harping, “Romeo got him some!” Groping a girl with a bunch of
onlookers was considered “getting some.” How messed-up is it that?

In
all the years that I’ve carried the stupid nickname around, I’ve served it
well. Even my sweet mama calls me that, though in her eyes I’ll always be her
baby boy. Honestly, I’m a hopeless romantic. I believe in love and all the
great things that come with it. I believe in monogamous relationships, unlike
my older brothers, who up until a few years ago made bed-hopping an Olympic event.
That’s not to say I don’t do my own share of bed-hopping, but mine is more
about the … research, part of my daily quest to find my ideal mate. I date
frequently, constantly searching for the one woman who stands above all others.
The one woman who I have an immediate connection with and see myself standing
next to when we’re old and gray. When I date we have some laughs together; I
charm and wine and dine. We flop around on the mattress a few times and by week
two I’m usually bringing the lucky lady home for Sunday dinner with my entire
family.

No
one has ever lasted past Sunday dinner.

It’s
not that my family isn’t welcoming, because they are. But Mama figured out
years ago that in my hunt for Mrs. Right, first I’d have to spend my time with
all the Miss Wrongs out there. She’s gracious and kind to whichever woman I
bring home, giving me a knowing look at the end of the meal that silently says,
“Oh hell no.” Well … without the swearing, but you get what I’m saying. My
devout Catholic mother would never, ever swear.

In
the past few years I’ve brought upwards of twenty different women home to meet
my family. Some don’t last through the entire meal. Some make the grave mistake
of seeing dollar signs. While my family’s empire is considerable, I down play
it as much as possible. I do well, I make good money, have a cool car and a
decent place to live. But I’m not the millionaire my oldest brother Cruz is or
the numbers guy that my other brother Marco is. I’m the black sheep brother,
different in every way from the other two arrogant dicks I happen to be related
to. I enjoy getting my hands dirty, wearing ratty jeans, and romancing women.
Cruz and Marco are both suit-wearing hotshots who ooze over-confidence and up
until Cruz got hitched to Mia and Marco shackled himself to Amita, they were
both serious players. Well, to be fair to my oldest brother, I’m only assuming
he was a player before meeting Mia. It’s not like he ever shared any tawdry
bedroom happenings with me. That’s cool and all and to each his own, but it’s
not my style. I see no point bullshitting my way between a woman’s legs,
especially when I can say a few nice things and treat them decently and still
get the same result.

I
suppose I’ve earned the damned nickname, but that sure as hell doesn’t mean I like
it. I have a hard enough time keeping up with my two older brothers without
that damn label being tossed around. Maybe I’m being over-sensitive; my actions
don’t exactly discourage the name. I just don’t think anyone takes me seriously
anymore and who knows, maybe I’ve done that to myself. Maybe I really am Romeo.

What
my brothers don’t know is that this Romeo found his Juliet years ago, more than
three to be exact. He met her simply by chance, one of those meant-to-be
moments that has sadly turned out to be anything but. His Juliet is blind to
his advances, businesslike and driven in everything she does. His Juliet is
beautiful, ethereal, and totally and completely untouchable. So he continues to
wine and dine, romance and sweet talk, all as a ruse to hide what’s really in
his heart. It’s nothing more than a lame attempt to somehow figure out what
makes Juliet tick and in doing so keeping all the unwanted family questions at
bay.

Whether
or not I am a true Romeo remains to be seen. What I do know is that I’ll be
whomever I have to be to get to know the illusive Juliet.

Alexis James lives on the
beautiful Central California coast. When she’s not spending time with her hubby
of almost 30 years or her amazing kids, you can find her tapping away on the
computer. She loves reading, spending time with family, reading, camping,
reading….and writing too! She enjoys a good date night, an inexpensive glass of
wine, and any story that can make her smile and/or cry.

Alexis’s first novel, “Losing
Faith”, was released in September 2014. Her second novel, “Loving Emma”, is a
standalone, though it does feature some characters from “Losing Faith”.

She invites you to visit her
author pages on Facebook and Goodreads, and her website: alexisjamesauthor.com.
You can also follow her on Twitter (@alexisjames27) or you can email her at:
alexisjamesauthor@gmail.com.

I have read one book thus far and the review
Always Too Late (Micalea Smeltzer) is part of A Love for Romance Anthology but also a novella for the Willow Creek series. Taylor and Gabe have been friends for years. She has been his secret...